


I can see yourself in poems

by thebluerain



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Jeno's POV, M/M, Poetry, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24366307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebluerain/pseuds/thebluerain
Summary: Jeno dreamed of a stranger, of a bright and wide smile, of a pair of beautiful doe eyes, of an ethereal visage so close to the sun, blinding yet basking the warmth seeped into his soul. Jeno dreamed of a stranger, so familiar that his heart yearned to be found, so familiar that his eyes longed to see. Jeno dreamed of a stranger that he felt whole when the lacuna found its missing piece and woke up as a half when a part of him was gone, leaving a gaping hole he was unable to suture.Jeno dreamed of a stranger and he remembered nothing but his own poems.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	I can see yourself in poems

**I can see yourself in poems**

Jeno dreamed of a stranger, of a bright and wide smile, of a pair of beautiful doe eyes, of an ethereal visage so close to the sun, blinding yet basking the warmth seeped into his soul. Jeno dreamed of a stranger, so familiar that his heart yearned to be found, so familiar that his eyes longed to see. Jeno dreamed of a stranger that he felt whole when the lacuna found its missing piece and woke up as a half when a part of him was gone, leaving a gaping hole he was unable to suture.

Jeno dreamed of a stranger and he remembered nothing but his own poems.

Dreaming in the darkness, getting pulled by a gentle slumber, a figure appeared, shrouded in the mist and the light permeated. A beam was drawn like a beacon fire that hit him with an enormous familiarity. Jeno remembered a face like the sun, radiant and blinding, and _his_ fingers were warm intertwined with his own, finding their way to trace the sun-kissed skin, and his heart was pounding faster and faster. That figure didn’t leave him, smiling so wide until his cheekbones were shown clearly and Jeno reached out, his fingertips were trailing _his_ rounded eyes, _his_ long eyelashes, _his_ high nose bridge, down to _his_ smiley lips, and planted a soft kiss in the corner of _his_ jaw – Jeno felt like burning.

He woke up where emptiness bludgeoned his heart and he was suffocated and _yearning_. Everything became blurry, his memories, his dreams, and his eyes – he was crying, wishing to connect every dot, to complete the puzzle piece in his life. He was lost for too long and it became unbearable.

Fate, the invisible red string tied to his finger and the knot was tangled, tightened around him that the blood shed even when he wished to cut everything off, but the bond was deeper, suffusing to every part of him, weaving one dream to another dream, bridging two souls towards the home they were destined to come back. Did Jeno believe in fate? He didn’t. He didn’t believe in uncertainties, in unknown possibilities, in many what ifs that perhaps he was born for someone else. Jeno hated the idea to be bound to someone other than himself that he felt empty and craved for more.

But that thought kept haunting him, when he saw a familiar figure dart from the crowd, when the vestige of his dream filled every nook and cranny within his mind, when he looked up to the vast firmament and a blinding smile was drawn vividly along the azure color and it ached his heart. The feeling was about to burst and he wanted to bawl to the heaven for putting an end to this endless anguish and _longing_. But when he opened the pages of his book where the inks stained the papers, a smile raised on the corner of his lips and his eyes crinkled, forming a perfect pair of crescents. Jeno dreamed of a stranger and his poems were the proof of their story.

_“The lambent sunbeam glints off the brown orbs_

_A blinding smile beacons on your visage_

_The warmth pervades to every joint, every limb_

_Where the solace embraces_

_And the sunlight dapples through the leaves falling to our shadows_

_Cradling me into serenity as if you are my remedy._

_The feeling of home, if I may say.”_

Jeno could see _him_ in poems beautifully written, portraying the scenery of heaven and earth, conveying the emotion buried deep within one’s heart. It got his soul trembling in the way the words were tangled and the meanings hid beneath the uncertainties of them, but the truest truth was soaring, it may find its way home someday. Because Jeno could see _his figure_ in poems, ethereal yet mystical that he had to drown himself in the deepest of his soul, unearthing his own heart, and his feelings inside of it. Hoping to get the answers and perhaps an inevitable encounter because his poems were born solely _for his existence_ to greet him, one day.

“Did you dream of _him_ last night?” Jeno tilted his head and Renjun (his best friend) was already sitting on the empty space beside him.

“The white light around your body is really getting stronger, you know. At first, I only saw a glimpse of it and now it feels like you are surrounded by the sun itself and you know my vision is weak.” Renjun said and he only nodded his head; _and my dreams keep getting stronger as well_.

“Maybe you will meet _him_ soon.” Renjun added, patting his shoulder.

Jeno dreamed of _that_ stranger for a long time. He didn’t remember the exact time, once he realized, his mind was filled with the blurry images scattering in his vision. He dreamed of _a normal daily routine_ , of memories he couldn’t recognize, of a delicate hand holding his fingers tightly, of an arm wrapping around his shoulder, of a warm embrace soothing all his pain, of a place where he could lean on and they lay down next to each other, the sun felt so close but he didn’t get burned or melt into nothingness.

He didn’t tell anyone, his parents didn’t believe him, and told him that dreams were a gift from deities to protect him. So, he grew up with a missing piece he couldn’t name, with a figure he couldn’t remember. It felt like they were growing up together, side by side, because Jeno could remember _his baby fat cheeks_ during the dreams in his childhood days and now _he_ looked taller than Jeno, but _his smile_ remained the same, blinding like _he_ was born to be the sun.

When he was in highschool, he met Renjun, a Chinese guy who moved to Seoul some years ago. They got along well and they got close. Renjun often gave him amulets from only god knew where, saying that his ancestors were from a shaman family, and those amulets could protect him from any evils. Until one day, he went to Renjun’s house and met his grandmother. She was a kind woman, gazing at him with a pair of warm eyes, but it felt like she peeled every layer inside of him, dived into the deepest part of his soul.

“That boy is so bright, right? Like the sun and you are just as bright as him.” She said and Jeno choked, fidgeting his fingers, he didn’t know why he suddenly felt so nervous. His mind froze, but the way she mentioned “bright boy” and “sun”, the thought of that stranger flashed through his mind.

“Do you know why you always feel like missing? Because you gave him half of your soul and in return he gave you half of his soul _to illuminate you_. Renjun said, his new friend was getting followed by an unknown creature that’s why he gave you so many amulets. But this white light around you, he must be loved by the Sun of God, but sacrificed all his light for you.” Jeno then remembered the warmth of _his_ embrace, _his_ radiant smile, and all beautiful lights shone when _he_ was around. He didn’t believe in superstition, but the way his chest tightened as if he just found a new revelation, as if he just found his lifelong answers. He knew it by the heart, the truth that wanted him to admit it out loud, because Jeno would recognize the other even by the remnant of _his_ ashes, even by the trace of their burial mounds. He looked up at the blue sky and a smile was engraved in the depth of his soul, asking him to come home.

“Will… will I meet him?” He stuttered and Renjun’s grandmother ruffled his hair so gently and like a spring breeze blowing in this stillness, her voice resounded in his eardrums, that he remembered clearly until years later.

“You will. He is destined for you in this lifetime, in every lifetime where you exist and he will exist just to find you.”

_“I cannot draw you in foreverness_

_Nor can I promise you eternity_

_Seeking a place to gaze_

_The falling snow and the blooming plum blossoms_

_In this endless whiteness,_

_Where our eyes meet and every color seems to burst_

_Drifting between your face and the boundless universe_

_I find a way to engrave your figure_

_Letting the seasons adore your stories_

_And this realm will tremble_

_For your existence emanating magnificence_

_Soaring higher from my heart to the vast firmament_

_I lose my thoughts_

_So I hide you within my poem_

_Where I can paint you in immortality_

_Creating a bridge to the heaven_

_And so, you are existing as celestial_

_Bleeding the sunlight_

_Wrapping the poignant words to your soul_

_And you will live in this poem, forever.”_

Jeno was half running, the greyish clouds heralded the rain that was so close to pour down. And he was right when the raindrop started falling, pattering against the ground. Jeno used his bag to hide from its droplets until he reached a coffee shop where he spent his morning after class with Renjun (and also where he stupidly left _his poem_ _book_ there).

The raindrop was cascading down to the glass window where there was a guy sitting in the place that he left less than thirty minutes ago, flipping the page of his poem book. His hair was blue with white shirt tucked inside his black pants. When he looked up, Jeno gasped, their eyes met and the blue-haired guy was beaming, as if his smile bled the sun and he felt like he found his missing piece. 

The time seemed to stop ticking and the world disappeared when Jeno was walking inside the coffee shop, his eyes never left the other. Innumerable dreams were mended, memories surged into his mind, indelible pieces of many lifetimes. His body was drained, overwhelmed, and he wanted to vomit everything, staggering in his step to where the blue-haired guy was standing. Jeno could see _him_ in poems, in every word that he wrote, in every sentence he portrayed the other, and Jeno was sure, _he_ recognized his words because his smile tore apart the rain and the sunbeams basked in their figures.

“What’s your name? I’m Lee Jeno.” The rapid beat of his heart became crazier, drowning in the frenzy, he tried to swim up to the surface of this endless ocean, to meet the sun without the fear of becoming ashes. His voice cracked when he extended his arm, and it was shaking. The blue-haired guy reached out his hand and the warmth pervaded that Jeno was burning as if he was about to combust.

“Na Jaemin.”

_Jaemin._

_Jaemin._

_Jaemin._

And like a dream came true, like a sacred vow towards the heaven, like a promise that was kept swirling in the boundless circle. The equinox flowers bloomed where their hands intertwined and they prostrated to the gods and deities to keep their memories intact even in the river of forgetfulness. The thread bound their destinies and they became one, carrying half of each other’s soul from the yellow spring to the three realms, from one lifetime to another lifetime in eternity.

“That’s your book, right?” Jaemin asked and the sunlight still fell on his figure, so bright and blinding that it took Jeno’s breath away. Jaemin was shining, illuminating every part of agonies, and in that moment Jeno understood that he was born along with the sun living inside Jaemin’s existence. And the light that never stopped burning, radiating his life, that he was never afraid of the darkness because half of Jaemin’s soul was with him, perishing every nightmare, suffusing the warmth so he wouldn’t feel cold. 

“I like it.” Jeno stole a glance at the book on the table, his handwriting was painted on the white paper, and on the top of that page, he vividly carved “ _I can see yourself in poems”._

_“I can see yourself in poems_

_Intoxicated by the muse that calls for your name_

_My fingers weave and the ink spills on the white paper_

_And you are reflected there_

_Depicted the beauty of the mountains and seas_

_The spark of your beam illuminates the dark night_

_The moon is trembling when you walk down_

_And its light bathes upon your figure_

_Quivering three realms_

_That the blossoms desire to be blown away_

_To admire the jade of your existence_

_I lose the words when they cross my mind_

_Spinning around along with your celestial figure_

_And I am afraid to look up_

_To be burned once our worlds collide_

_Yet, I am still longing_

_Seeking refuge of salvation_

_That I can see yourself in poems_

_Yearning to be able to deem and convey all sentiments_

_I can see yourself in poems_

_Beautiful and eternal_

_Filling every cavity of emptiness_

_Carved with the word of foreverness_

_"You are worthy of my grace"_

_As how the poets say, echoing in all scriptures_

_Yet, will I be worthy of yours?”_

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an impulse tbh :') and i know it's so weird and all but i do hope you will enjoy this (i really like writing poems so i hope they are not that bad). english is not my first language so yes mine sucks (but pls do give me feedback, it really makes me happy). 
> 
> you can hit me up; [twitter](https://twitter.com/gnanugu)


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